


getting washed away

by VeryImportantDemon



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: David just wants to belong bless him, David’s thoughts on singing, Gen, Happy resolution, Introspection, M/M, Past Relationship(s), and why he doesn’t like it, lots of metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImportantDemon/pseuds/VeryImportantDemon
Summary: David Rose use to sing. He doesn’t anymore.





	getting washed away

**Author's Note:**

> There is a brief scene of a toxic past relationship but there is no physical violence. This is my first foray into Schitt’s Creek but I’m obsessed with these two and the show so except more from me about them!

David Rose use to sing. He doesn’t anymore. 

 

Sometimes David’s parents will tell him stories about when he was younger. He is a cute little kid with chubby cheeks and a mop of dark hair and and dimples that almost took up his whole face. He is always running around their mansion or their summer homes with crayons in his fists. One other thing, his mother never recalls without a wistful look in her eye, that David did as a child was sing.

 

—-

 

_ The first time she heard him sing along, he was a little over four. Moira was sitting in front of her vanity mirror, brushing her hair and singing to herself. David, in one of his mother’s sweaters he’d stolen from their laundress that hung past his knees, toddled past the open doorway. His movement caught her eye.  _

 

_ “Oh, David,” she said. “David, daring, what are you doing with Mummy’s sweater on?” _

 

_ “I wanted to be like you,” David said sincerely. It was hard not to feel affection towards him when he was hers, and those dimples… She could never say no to them. He struck what she assumed he thought was a movie star pose, one hand on a jutted-out hip. Then he took a deep breath and launched into a song. _

 

_ “David!” Moira cried. “Oh, David, that’s lovely. You’re going to be a star!”  _

 

_ David giggled happily, clambering up his mother’s legs to sit in her lap. “I’m going to be a star,” he echoed.  _

 

_ “Sing with Mommy, dear,” Moira said. She hummed a few notes and David joined in, beaming. He was just a child who having fun. A little boy who would sing as he followed the maid while she cleaned, while he played dolls with his baby sister, while he spun himself around in his father’s office chair. _

 

_ —- _

 

David starts to not like singing as he grows older. When he gets older, there’s pressure. It isn’t just fun. He has to be good. He has to perform. It starts with his mother. He’s still very little and she makes him train to sing. They do The Number every year at Christmas and David hates it. He hates being paraded out in front of his parents’ rich friends and their kids, reciting old, tired carols. He hates it, but he does it anyway, because he loves his mother.

 

—-

 

His aversion to singing becomes something he must not do too well because it would step on his mother’s toes. 

 

David loves Moira Rose. He truly does. But his mother is larger-than-life. She is always performing, always dressed to the nines, always the center of attention. It’s always Moira Rose, never David Rose. So he can’t sing too well because he would intrude on his mother’s spotlight. 

 

He tries to find something else he can do. Something to make him stand out. He becomes larger than life in his own way. He talks loudly and he draws attention to himself and he dresses big and bold. He makes a name for himself and he learns that he must carve out a space for himself or he will he swallowed up.

 

—- 

 

He carves his space in his relationships. He dates around with underwear models and artists and girls from the street and people he pulled straight out of a Pride parade. But none of them feel like he’s carved out his own space. A space where he truly belongs. He doesn’t push too hard, doesn’t try new things, and he definitely does not say that he loves them.

 

Because he doesn’t. 

 

—-

 

There is a girl, once. She is a Victoria’s Secret Angel who is trying to start a music career. She reminds David of his mother, in hindsight, but not her good qualities. He sees Moira in the girl’s need to be the center of attention, her need to be the best. And music is her thing. Only hers. So she is not pleased with David. 

 

—- 

 

_ He was a little tipsy coming home from the club. He wasn’t thinking, either, so he started humming. The last song that had been playing at the bar was a catchy one and he couldn’t help himself. His humming slowly turned into singing as he fumbled with the door. Luckily, it was unlocked, he learned after he spent 2 minutes trying to jam a Bobby pin in it.  _

 

_ David opened the door finally, tugging his sweater off from where it was tied around his waist and flinging it over the kitchen counter. He was still singing to himself, swaying in the slightest dance while opening every cupboard in his kitchen. He wanted a sandwich but he couldn’t find bread. Where had he put it?  _

 

_ He settled for a bottle of tequila, popping the top and taking a swig before spinning around, dipping his shoulders in time to the music in his head. He almost dropped the bottle when his current flavor of the week materialized.  _

 

_ “Oh, Lord,” he said, putting a hand over his heart. “You scared me. My constitution isn’t equipped for this.” _

 

_ Crossing her arms, she frowned. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” she said. _

 

_ David hesitated, suddenly aware that he was in trouble. But for what? He glanced at the bottle of tequila. “...Making a sandwich?”  _

 

_ “Before that, dumbass,” she sneered. “You know I don’t want you singing. That’s my thing. And you’re terrible at it, anyway.”  _

 

_ David deflated, holding the bottle close to his chest, his shoulders slumped. “Uh…”  _

 

_ “And who were you out with, anyway?” she said. “God, I knew better than to take pity on you. I should’ve believed my girlfriends when they said bi guys are more likely to cheat.” _

 

_ David opened his mouth to speak, his mind turning. “I’m pansexual,” he said. “And… We’re not? No more than anyone else?” Also, what was she doing in his apartment? Last time he checked, she lived somewhere else and didn’t have a key. _

 

_ “Whatever,” she said, breezing past him and towards the door. “I’ll see you at the party tomorrow night.”  _

 

_ The door closed behind her but David didn’t move for a very long time. His sandwich and the song were both forgotten.  _

 

—- 

 

She isn’t the only one with misconceptions of him. In fact, he’ll wager that most people he sleeps with have some kind of false idea about him. He never forgets a rude word towards him, tucking every single one away somewhere deep in the back of his mind. He endeavors to get better, to correct his mistakes, but it seems insurmountable. It seems he’ll never be good enough. He’ll never have his own space to exist as who he wants to be. 

 

So he doesn’t sing. 

 

—- 

 

But then they move to Schitt’s Creek. 

 

He doesn’t feel like singing because he’s just been ripped away from everything he knows. He’s the only one like him in the whole town. He doesn’t want to sing because he hates it but then things slowly start changing his mind.

 

Stevie helps. She treats him like anyone else. She doesn’t care that he drinks red wine and white wine and rosé and Chardonnay. She doesn’t care about where he’s been and who he used to be. She only cares about who he is now. He’s her friend and she is his. 

 

—-

 

But even with Stevie, he still doesn’t feel as if he has his place. Something is still off. He still doesn’t belong and he still does not want to sing. 

 

Then he meets Patrick. Patrick Brewer is the kindest, sweetest man David has ever met and he considers it a privilege to get to be with him, even in the capacity of business partners. But they aren’t just business partners because Patrick takes him out for a birthday dinner and buys him a sweet present, something no one has ever really done for him. It’s a date, even though David doesn’t realize it until he’s on the date.

 

And then they’re dating and they’re kissing and David gets to leave small, half-hickeys in Patrick’s gorgeous chest. Everything seems perfect. 

 

—- 

 

David does sing in public on occasion. He performs The Number with his mother to save her from embarrassment, pushing his own fear aside. He does karaoke drunk in a bar because he feels like a kid again in that no one cares. 

 

—-

 

An open mic night needs to happen, though. And David knows what that means. It means singing, which he has not done in years. It means he has to listen to other people sing, fear the retribution if they feel the same as the girl he dated lifetimes ago. He does not like music and this is bringing music into the first place that feels like his space. His and Patrick’s store. 

 

Most of all, though, he’s terrified of hearing Patrick sing. He’s certain Patrick’s good, because how could he not be, but he’s never heard him sing before. If Patrick is good and he decides that singing is his thing, it is a slippery slope towards the store being ‘his thing’ or David’s town being ‘his thing’ or Stevie being ‘his thing’ and everything is crashing down around him. 

 

—- 

 

Patrick sings. He has David blushing before he’s even started and not in a bad way. It feels like David is the only person in the room, the only person in the world, and it feels amazing. It is the first time in so, so long that he hears someone sing and isn’t afraid. He just basks in the glow of Patrick’s voice, of Patrick declaring that he, David Rose the damaged goods, is simply the best. 

 

David thinks he might like singing again. 

 

—-

 

Patrick proposes and it’s the greatest day in David’s life. 

 

—-

 

_ “I can’t believe it,” David said with a soft sigh. He had never pictured himself as the marrying type, but here he was, dancing with Patrick to Tina Turner, their foreheads touching. “I actually cannot believe that I am here, right now, with you.”  _

 

_ Patrick smiled, swaying back and forth with his hands on David’s hips. Their dance wasn’t a lot of moving, but David didn’t want it to be. He wanted to be as close to Patrick as possible. “I can, Mr. Rose-Brewer,” Patrick said.  _

 

_ “Mr. Rose-Brewer,” David repeated. “That is the single greatest name I have ever heard in my entire life.” _

 

_ “It is pretty great,” Patrick admitted. Their talk fell away and they swayed together in comfortable quiet, enjoying each other’s company. _

 

_ David broke the quiet in a move that surprised even him.  _

 

_ “You’re the simply the best,” he sang softly. “Better than all the rest.”  _

 

_ “David,” Patrick said in awe.  _

 

_ David laughed, squeezing Patrick’s shoulders once. “I found something and it’s worth celebrating with a song.”  _

 

_ “Tear is apart, baby,” David said, but he wasn’t alone. Patrick was right there with him. _

 

_ “I would rather be dead. Oh, you’re the best.”  _

 

—- 

 

David has finally found his space and his space is Patrick. 


End file.
